


I Want You To Mean It, OR, Team Cap Has A Problem

by IceSword46



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Everyone has feelings but it all works out, F/F, F/M, Healthy Relationships, Honestly this is 16K of pure pining from everyone involved, M/M, Mutual Pining, There are so many cameos in this so hopefully there'll be one or two you get really excited to see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 16:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7625494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceSword46/pseuds/IceSword46
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Peggy all have problems. Fortunately, it all works out in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Team Cap Has A Problem

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially going to be a one-shot for the "I'm you're RA and you keep getting yourself locked out of your dorm while you're in the shower and so you show up to my room in just a towel and it's really distracting" prompt that I think exists. But then I wanted Nat, Sam, and Peggy to make appearances. And then Clint and Kate and it somehow spiraled into this.
> 
> I don't own any of the characters.  
> Title from Jasey Rae by All Time Low

**Steve Rogers has a problem. His problem is that Brock Rumlow is an asshole. Brock Rumlow is an asshole who is also his roommate and has a penchant for “accidentally” locking Steve out of their room while he’s in the shower.** So now Steve is stuck out in the hallway of their floor with a towel wrapped tightly around his bony hips and clutching his shower caddy to his chest like an idiot for the fourth time in as many weeks. He shuffles down to his RA’s room and hopes that no one has to go to class anytime soon and see his thin, barely covered frame. 

Bucky isn’t in his room, though, so he travels back to the other end of the hall and hopes that Sam is in his. He knocks and fortunately the door opens a few moments later. Sam’s bright smile becomes a frown of concern. “Again, Steve? You gotta do something about this, man,” Sam says in lieu of greeting as he lets Steve into his room. 

“I already told you why I’m not going to do that, Sam,” Steve says as he stands in the middle of Sam’s room. Sam’s roommate Riley isn’t around, but then again, he’s never around. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen the guy before, even just in passing in the building. Steve almost wishes that Riley could have been Brock’s roommate and that he could’ve been Sam’s, but he wouldn’t wish anyone to be Brock’s roommate. Steve has never met Riley but based off the way Sam talks about him he seems pretty cool and he doesn’t deserve to get stuck with a guy like Brock.  


Sam sits down on the edge of Riley’s unlofted bed. “Man, sit your sorry butt down,” he tells Steve, motioning to his wet desk chair.  


“I’m all wet, Sam.”  


“The chair will survive. And even if it doesn’t, I got it on sale at Target. It’s no great loss, Rogers.” Steve sits. “I understand that your immense pride is getting in the way of you actually acknowledging that your roommate is bullying you, but you’ve got to be getting tired of this.”  


“Yes, Sam, I am. And I’d like to punch him in the face but I still have to live with the guy for seven more months, and I’d prefer to keep all my personal property intact.” Steve didn’t have much to bring with him to school; being the kid of a single mother coupled with the amount of money that went towards his hospital bills growing up kind of guaranteed that, so he can’t really afford to lose anything he brought with him. He’s actually surprised Brock hasn’t defaced any of the sketches he has taped up on his walls and he surreptitiously knocks on Sam’s desk after he has that thought.  


“I’d like to punch him in the face, too. I figure I’ve still got two years and seven months to knock that off my bucket list,” Sam says as he tosses Steve a blanket. Steve wraps it around his shoulders and shifts until he’s comfortable. “Honestly, Steve, this is high school-level shit. You think he’d be better than that.”  


“You're giving him _way_ too much credit," Steve says with a sharp scowl.  


“I hope you aren’t as blatant in your disgust for him when he’s around. You do have to live with the guy for the rest of the year.”  


“I know that. Which is why I haven’t fucked with any of shit,” Steve shoots back. “I haven’t gotten paint on any of his clothes or textbooks, I haven’t drunk any Gatorade, I haven’t – no, wait, I have messed with his alarm clock.”  


Sam arches a brow. “Only a couple of times,” Steve defends. “It’s an easy enough mistake to set an alarm early or an hour late and not realize you did it. Sometimes you may forget to set it altogether. Easy, understandable mistakes, Sam.”  


“Remind me to never get on your bad side, shit,” Sam says as Steve grins devilishly.  


Steve suddenly looks distracted. “You think Bucky is in his room yet?”  


Sam feigns surprise. “Wait, you don’t have his schedule memorized?”  


Steve flushes. “No,” he mutters. He pulls the blanket a little more tightly around himself and asks too earnestly for Sam’s liking, “Do you think he’s noticed?” Shit, Sam almost feels bad.  


“I don’t know, I don’t know what the two of you do when you go to his room dressed like that,” Sam says as he motions to Steve. The smaller man flushes even more and Sam lets out a soft laugh. “You do hang out with him a lot since you’re the one resident who actually shows up to hall events and I see you in the office pretty often. And he clearly puts up with your stubborn ass.”  


“Yes, but does he _want_ my stubborn ass?” Steve can’t help but ask. He asks partially because he really needs to figure this out but also because he wants to see Sam blanch.  


Sam refuses to give him the satisfaction and Steve both loves him and hates him for it. “I dunno, dude, that’s something you need to figure out for yourself. Like I said, I see you talking with him in office hours pretty often, how much are you flirting with him?” 

Steve shrugs and says, “I’m not really sure.” Sam sighs and is glad that he doesn’t want to work in couples counseling. 

“Well you need to figure that out.”  


Steve nods in agreement. “I’m going to go check to see if he’s in his room. You’re the best, Sam,” Steve says as he gets up to leave, neatly folding the blanket back up and draping it over the back of Sam’s futon before going.  


“Don’t I know it,” Sam tells him before closing the door.  


Steve’s not completely hopeless when it comes to flirting, it’s just that he hadn’t had many opportunities to fine-tune his style before he left for college. High school wasn’t the greatest time for him so he didn’t have very many prospects there to come up with any sort of technique. He mainly skirted around different crowds, ending up at different parties but not having many close friends. There were a couple of exceptions, though.  


One time he told off a football player at a party because he kept trying to get his hands up a cheerleader’s shirt even though she kept telling him no. It got him punched him in the face but it also got him his first blowjob later that night when the cheerleader found him out by his car as he was going to leave. Maria told him that even though she could have handled it herself, she appreciated what he had done and then she kissed him. They made out for a while, the noise of the party a low roar in the background – or maybe it was the blood pounding in Steve’s ears – before she pushed him into the backseat and crawled in after him. He returned the favor because even if he was a virgin he was still a goddamn gentleman. He hung out with Maria every so often because she didn’t give a fuck about what other people thought of her. Sometimes they watched movies and sometimes they did more R-rated things. Maria went away to a college on the opposite coast but they still texted sometimes. Steve was glad she was doing well.  


His first time _giving_ a blowjob had been with his friend Wade from his art class. Junior year the two of them were drinking and playing Xbox in Wade’s bedroom when Wade suddenly admitted, “So I think I might be into guys.” Steve replied as nonchalantly as he could, “Yeah, I think I am, too.” Not too long after that the Xbox controllers ended up on the floor with their clothes soon following. They hooked up a couple of times over the course of the semester and then Wade’s mom got a new job and he left the state in early March.  


Steve feels like sexual encounters aren’t supposed to be as casual as his had been so far. Not that he minded, but there just hadn’t been any sort of buildup or slow burn with Maria or Wade. They’d just sort of happened and then kept happening. Things felt different with Bucky, which is why he didn’t really know what to do flirting-wise. Steve didn’t want to just fool around with Bucky and then go back to playing Xbox. He wanted to, like, cuddle or lay together and talk about life. Steve has no clue what to do, so he just makes his way back down to Bucky’s room and tries to focus on how cold he is, not how badly he wants to kiss his resident advisor.  


* * * *

 **Bucky Barnes has a problem. His problem is a resident named Steve Rogers: a sophomore who lives two doors down the hall from him who perpetually shows up to his room.** Steve couldn’t weigh more than 115 pounds soaking wet and Bucky wanted to ravish him until the poor kid can’t even remember his own name. Staff training did not train him for this shit. Sometimes Steve pops by in between his classes because he’s actually a pretty involved resident compared to some of the other guys on Bucky’s floor. A psychology major named Sam Wilson shows up pretty frequently and so does a guy named Clint. Bucky knows Clint is mainly at the events for the free food but Bucky doesn’t mind because Clint’s pretty cool when he’s actually awake enough to hold a conversation. Brock never shows up. Bucky doesn’t mind that either. Regardless, Bucky has it bad for Steve Rogers and he just conveniently showed up at Bucky’s door wearing just a towel, again. Bucky lets him in.  


“Sorry this keeps happening,” Steve says as he shuffles into Bucky’s room.  


“You don’t have to apologize, Steve. If anything, I should be apologizing that the housing department hasn’t done anything yet,” Bucky says as he begins to look around for his key to the Hall office. “Sit down, punk, I can see that you’re dry.” _Probably could’ve worded that better,_ Bucky thinks belatedly.  


“I haven’t said anything to them. I’ve dealt with worse. I can handle an asshole like Rumlow for a year,” Steve says as he sits down on Bucky’s futon.  


Bucky pauses in his search and leans back against his dresser to fully face Steve before he asks, “You’ve dealt with worse than getting locked out of your room while showering on a weekly basis?”  


Steve shrugs nonchalantly. “I haven’t been punched by anyone yet, so that’s an improvement.”  


Bucky is suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to beat the shit out of everyone who ever tormented Steve in high school. “I don’t want to ask a stupid question but at this point I feel like I have to: do you bring your keys with you when you shower?”  


Steve gives him a Look before answering. “Yes. He usually swipes it from the outer section of the shower stall while I'm in there. He doesn’t do it all the time and I don’t really feel like physically taking my key into the shower with me. I’d rather take a regular shower and deal with it than take a three minute shower just so I can beat the asshole to the punch. I’m not going to give him that satisfaction.”  


_Is Steve Rogers a real person? What the actual fuck?_ “That’s admirable…”  


“That’s stubborn,” Steve shoots back.  


“Yeah, I’m gathering that about you,” Bucky says, trying to not let too much fondness show in his voice.  


“What can I say? Being a 105-pound asthmatic bisexual doesn’t do you any favors growing up.”  


Bucky just barely avoids choking on air. “Well I’m a 160-pound bisexual and it hasn’t done me much good, either.” Steve shoots him a dark-eyed look and Bucky can actually feel the blood leaving his head and shit he needs to get back to the initial conversation.  


“I’m not sure if Brock is a homophobe or just a jerk. It’s not like I have an LGBT flag draped across my room. I’m not hiding who I am but I haven’t been super out or anything. I’m thinking he’s just a dick.”  


“That’s not any better, Steve.”  


“Nah, but it’s kind of reassuring to know he’s a dick towards everyone and not just to me because I’m _into_ dick.” Bucky can’t help but laugh at that. “So are you going to go get the master key to let me back into my room? Not that I don’t enjoy our time together, but I’m starting to get cold.”  


Bucky feels his entire face heat up. “Right, yeah, I can go grab that.”  


“Don’t mind me, I’ll wait,” Steve says, stretching his arms across the back of Bucky’s futon. Bucky wants to tear that towel off of him.  


Bucky rubs at his face as he makes his way down to the office. It’s only October and already this year has been nothing like the year before when he was just an Assistant Resident Advisor. The RA he was partnered with last year, Namor, helped him improve his conflict resolution skills and other things like “motivational interviewing” and other obnoxious sounding terms that Namor insisted were important, and Bucky did know that they were, but he never really had to use them.  


Now this year his floor has Brock and Steve, who would be bad enough even if they weren’t roommates. However, given that Steve refuses to do anything about the issues between him and Brock, Bucky hasn’t been able to help much there. It bothers him more than he lets on to Steve. He took pride in being one of the few sophomores who were selected to join staff and he wanted to prove to both himself and his fellow staff members that he deserved to be there. Even if he hasn’t had a chance to resolve any conflicts between Steve and Rumlow, he’s had more than enough chances to try and sort out the never-ending drama between two other guys on his floor, Logan and Scott. Bucky is grateful every day that they live across the hall from one another and don’t actually live together because he’s 85% certain that one of them, if not both of them, would be dead already.  


All in all, he’s been pleasantly surprised by how good he is at handling everything that being an RA entails. Natasha’s got first shift on office hours and she’s already typing away on her laptop when he walks in and he hopes she won’t say anything. He’s just crossing the threshold of the office to leave when she asks, “Rogers naked in your room again?”  


“He’s wearing a towel,” Bucky defends.  


“Are you going to act on that? It’s October, James.”  


“I can read a calendar, Natasha,” Bucky says sharply. He looks around and lowers his voice before continuing, “I was finally able to drop my sexuality into the conversation but I can only drop so many hints before I’m downright saying, ‘hey, Steve, I want to rip that towel off of you, push you into my mattress, and not let you leave.’ Besides, getting with your residents is kind of frowned upon.”  


“Only if you just want to sleep with them. You clearly want to take him out to dinner and movies and have pillow talk so it’s more than a quick lay. Although, thank you for explaining just how you want to lay him. That was necessary.” 

Bucky flushes again and is still trying to find a response to that when Nat adds, “And leaving the guy half-naked in your room isn’t getting you any closer to being able to do that.”  


Bucky swears and rushes back up to his room on the fifth floor. Steve is sitting cross-legged on the floor looking at Bucky’s DVD collection. “Sorry, I got bored,” he says a little sheepishly.  


“Sorry, Natasha was having computer issues and –“  


“And you being the honorable RA that you are you had to lend a hand. I understand. Still cold, though.”  


“At this rate you should just keep a spare set of clothes in here.” _You fucking idiot stop fucking talking right now._ He adds a weak chuckle so it doesn’t sound as bad.  


“There are worse places to have to spend my time half naked,” Steve says. Bucky is not going to survive this year. “And you’ve had worse ideas. Like getting that barbershop quartet as a hall program.”  


“They were good last year!” Bucky says.  


“Well they weren’t this year!”  


“I didn’t know that three of them had graduated!”  


“Isn’t it your job as an RA to do research on those types of things or something?”  


“No, my job is to get people to show up. Hence the pizza. It works on Clint, at least.”  


“Clint likes the floor programs; he’s just too much of a shit to own up to it.”  


“And you have no experience in being a shit,” Bucky shoots back before he can stop himself.  


“I’m going to let you have that one because you’re letting me back into my room…” Steve starts.  


“And because I’m right.”  


“Talk to his friend Kate, she’ll side with me!” Steve practically yells in his attempt to cut Bucky off.  


Bucky grins at Steve’s scowl so he doesn’t do something stupid like kiss it off his face. “Come on ya punk, you need to get dressed.” He follows Steve down to his room and resolutely doesn’t notice how Steve’s towel has slid down to just barely cover the slight swell of his ass.  


Once he’s let Steve into his room Bucky heads back down to the office where Peggy has joined Natasha. “That took you longer than usual,” Natasha tells him from where she’s sitting on the office desk and swinging her legs idly. He may have a tendency to go mope to Nat each time this happens.  


Peggy's sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the office chair but Bucky taps at them to get her to move them. She acquiesces, but only so she can lean back and say, “I’m noticing a pattern, Barnes.”  


“That you always catch me on days when I’m looking hotter than you are?” Bucky quips as he flops down into the chair.  


“It’s cute that you think that that’s ever happened before.”  


“Then what have you noticed, Carter?”  


“That a certain sophomore shows up at your door an awful lot.”  


“I can’t help that Wilson and I are such kindred spirits. It’s because we’re both so charming,” Bucky says with a shit-eating grin. Natasha snorts at that and Peggy rolls her eyes.  


“Let’s be honest, Steve would show up at your door a lot more when this happened if you didn’t live across the hall,” Natasha tells her. Bucky loves Natasha.  
“I admire his resolve,” Peggy says simply.  


“You and me both, Carter,” Bucky replies. “I just happen to admire some other aspects of him as well.” Peggy smirks in spite of herself.  
Natasha looks up at the clock, leisurely. “James, isn’t your art appreciation class about to start?”  


“Shit, Nat! You know you could clue me in about things sooner!” Bucky tells her as he pushes himself up out of the chair.  


“But then I wouldn’t get to see your sorry ass have to run across campus and you need all the exercise you can get if you think you’re ever going to beat my mile time,” she tells him. He gives her the finger as he runs off again.  


* * * *

**Natasha Romanoff has a problem. Her problem is Alexander Pierce is a fucking asshole. Alexander Pierce is also her academic advisor.  
**

“You know, it’d be a lot easier if we just let him know Steve likes him back,” Natasha says.  


“Yes, but this is something they can stand to figure out on their own. They’ve been dancing around each other for over a month, they’ll get there soon enough,” Peggy tells her.  


“I know, but I figured I’d state the obvious. I mean, I know most guys aren't this dense but the guys in our building are so – honestly, Clint, do you spend your dining dollars on anything other than coffee? Or do you just live off the free pizza you get at hall council?”  


“Can’t hear you, I’m deaf!” Clint yells as he passes the office.  


Peggy laughs and asks, “Case in point?”  


“Nah, he’s all right. His friend Kate keeps him in line.”  


“Oh, the sociology major? I like her! She lets me steal some of her apple slices whenever she comes by to look for Clint. She puts cinnamon on them, it’s genius.”  
“That makes a lot more sense… I thought they were just always going bad.” Natasha rests her feet on the now-empty office chair. “So, speaking of girls, how are things going with the theatre major?”  


“My friend Angie? What do you mean?” Peggy asks, her brow furrowing.  


“Yeah, you’re regular gal pals. She calls you English –“  


“Because I am!”  


“And she was crushed when she found out you couldn’t live together since you’re an RA.”  


“She was not crushed.”  


“I was there. It was like watching a puppy get kicked and not understanding what it did wrong.”  


“I have to go work on my independent study, goodbye Natasha.”  


“Goodbye, English!”  


Peggy is too classy to give her the finger but Natasha knows she wants to. “You’re gonna kick Zola’s ass!” Natasha yells, because she’s a good friend. 

Peggy shouts back from down the hall, “I know!”  


After Peggy bails on her, too, Natasha goes back to reading for her Russian Literature class. She’s halfway through her chapter when a girl wearing a pale purple peacoat with matching boots and sunglasses that are perched on the top of her head stops in.  


“Hey, Nat!”  


“Hey, Kate. Meeting up with Clint?”  


“No, he’s meeting up with me,” she clarifies as she sits down on the desk, brushing some dark black hair out of her face.  


“When?” Natasha asks, looking at the clock reading 4:30.  


“4:30,” Kate answers.  


“Why’d you get here so early, then?” Natasha says with a smirk.  


“Because of one of us has to have our life together.”  


“Honestly, how _did_ you meet?”  


“I was driving back from the grocery store and I took a side street to get back to campus more quickly when I saw this dog that had been hit by a car. I stopped to see if they needed any help and Clint was there, talking to the dog and family, keeping them calm and stuff. He had a pizza and was sharing it with the family and the dog! We stayed ‘til everything got sorted out and I asked why he was there. He said he was coming back with the pizza he had ordered and saw it happen. We hang out now.”  
Kate’s phone rings and Natasha hears over the speaker, “Kate, where the hell are you?” Kate glances at Natasha and waits, tapping her fingernails – purple, of course – against the desk. Natasha then hears, “Awe shit, I forgot we were meeting in the lobby. I’ll be there in a second.” Kate rolls her eyes and pulls out a sandwich bag filled with apple slices. Natasha eyes them warily.  


“Can I try one of those?” She finally asked.  


Kate gasps dramatically, “Natasha Romanoff, have you finally seen the light?”  


Natasha doesn’t dignify her with a response but takes one anyways. _Damn_. Peggy was right, they are good. She’s about to ask if she could have another slice when Clint walks in and asks, “Why are you hanging with Nat?”  


“I was telling her the Lucky story,” Kate tells him and Natasha watches Clint’s face heat up. 

“That’s a boring story,” he mutters.  


“I’ve heard better,” she replies and Clint shoots her a soft smile.  


“You ready to go, Kate?” Kate nods and Clint pulls out his phone. “Yo, Murdoch, we’ll be at your place in five, so be ready to go this time!”  


Shortly after they leave, Natasha’s phone vibrates because apparently no one wants her to finish this chapter. She slides it open to see an email from her advisor, letting her know, once again that he is unable to meet with her and she flings her phone at the couch.  


She’s still staring bitterly at her phone when she sees Sam out of her peripheral vision and is snapped out of her mood. “Sam! What do you know about Dr. Pierce?”  
Sam turns and ambles into the office. “Kind of an ass, super smart and conceited and egotistical, slightly fascist. Why?”  


“He’s my advisor,” Natasha snarls and Sam’s eyes widen but he doesn’t rescind what he said. Instead he simply says, “oh?” It’s just the barest hint of an inflection but it leaves an opening for her to continue if she wants to.  


“I want to work with abuse victims and Pierce doesn’t think that I have ‘a demeanor that’s fitting for people who have underwent trauma’. He’s been my advisor for two and a half years and he’s met with me five times. Once at the start of my freshman year to help me pick my classes and at the end of that semester to find out what I wanted to take for the second semester. Then at the end of that second semester to find out what my plan for my sophomore year was, which is when he started critiquing my career plan. I met with him at the end of both semester sophomore year and they went the same way. I was able to get him to meet with me once more last spring because I wanted to find out where to start in regards to applying for grad schools and it was more or less fifteen minutes of him wondering if ‘that was really the path I wanted to take.’”  


“Jesus, Nat, I’d heard horror stories but are advisors even allowed to do that?”  
Natasha has been told that she can’t do something plenty of times and she’s always proven her detractors wrong, but the fact that Alexander Pierce has the audacity to tell her that he doesn’t think that she can do something that she has known she has wanted to do since she was 15, based off of spending a grand total of maybe thirty-five minutes with her, really pisses her off.  


“Pretty sure they’re not. Either way, I’m working on an appeal to getting my advisor switched to Dr. Hawley. I met with her for twenty minutes a few weeks ago just to make sure that all of the research I did into grad schools over the summer was going in the right direction and she helped me more than Pierce ever did.”  


“He really got to you, didn’t he?” Sam asks.  


Nat sighs. “Yeah. It’s just frustrating. Those twenty minutes just highlighted how much more on track I could be if I had Hawley for an advisor.” She rolls her neck and composes herself. “What were you up to?”  


“Had to go to the library to print out a paper for my sociology class. It was on eugenics. Real twisted stuff, not very fun to read about,”  


“Use mine.”  


“Yeah?”  


“Just because we’re fooling around doesn’t mean you can’t stop by for other reasons.”  


“I can still come by for the other reason though, right?” Sam asks with a sly grin.  


“I get off in 15,” she says as an answer, but she shoots a grin that is just as promising back at him.  


“You’ll get of then, too.”  


“Damn straight.”  


* * * *

 **Sam Wilson has a problem. His problem is not that he’s sleeping with Natasha Romanoff. That’s the exact opposite of a problem. The problem is that he wants to do more than just sleep with her.** So while they’re lying in that post-sex comfortable haze he asks, “You want to go to Ditko and grab dinner with me?”

“I’m not hungry. Thank you, though. Plus, I want to try and figure out what to do about Pierce. I’ll see you later?”  


“Yeah,” Sam says quietly as he swings his feet over the side of Natasha’s bed and reaches down to pick up his shirt. “I’ll see you later.”  


He heads to Ditko alone apart from his thoughts. Now Sam is good at reading people, he chose to be a psychology major for a reason after all, but Natasha Romanoff is not most people. She’s not as closed off as people think she is but she’s definitely good at concealing her thoughts. He’s pretty sure that she shared more about herself during their conversation in the office today than she had in the past few months combined. He doesn’t think he’s met someone who keeps their cards closer to their chest than her. He’s okay with that, but he’s been slowly playing his hand, and he’s man enough to admit that he wishes she could trust him enough do the same.  


He has even more respect for Natasha after their conversation today. Sam was pretty sure he wanted to work with veterans going into college but he did a lot of research on the different populations someone could work with. Nothing connected with him like veterans counseling did but trauma counseling was definitely one that he read up on, especially given the overlap that could occur between the two areas. The fact that Nat wanted to go into it and was so driven in that goal, was, awesome.  


Shit, he had it bad.  


He feels bad that Nat’s stuck with Pierce as an advisor. He’s a year younger than her but thanks to his advisor he’d already gotten a volunteering gig at the local VA. He’s been going every Saturday since the semester started and it’s only solidified the decision that that’s the type of work he wants to be doing. He can’t imagine being as determined as Natasha and not having that support and guidance that an advisor should provide. He hopes that Hawley works out for her, he was taking her Social Psychology course this semester and she’s already by far the best professor he’s had. He knows that she would be a great fit for Natasha.  


The cafeteria is relatively empty when he walks in and he grabs a to-go box. He’s shoveling some rice into his box when he sees Peggy in line in front of him, also with a to-go box. Out of Bucky, Natasha, and Peggy, Sam has probably talked to Peggy the least. He mainly only talks to her on days when some combination of his group of friends chats together with staff during office hours but he likes her. She’s a take no-shit type of girl and could probably beat him up. He’d be okay with that. Most days when she’s in there alone he sees her working on her independent study.  


“Not feeling the crowd thing tonight?” Sam asks.  


She quickly spots him when she turns around and gives him a smile. “Not really.” 

She steps back from the line, allowing the people between the two of them to pass her, and steps back up next to him. “You’re feeling the same way, I see.”  


“Yeah, my room ended up sounding like the better option on my walk over here.”  


“Well if you don’t mind a little crowd, you’re welcome to join me for dinner,” she offers. Her voice isn’t full of its usual assuredness. Sam reckons she’s just as aware of the fact that they aren’t that close. Sam would like to get to know her better, though, so he takes her up on the offer. Within the time that Peggy walks through the cafeteria line she greets a more racially diverse group of guys than Sam thinks he has seen anywhere else on campus. “We had a lot of group work in my Judicial Politics course last spring. Me and the rest of those guys ended up making a pretty good team,” Peggy explains after Sam asks her “how exactly she knows a guy named Dum-Dum?” She makes sure to correct him and remark that she only calls him Dugan.  


“My mistake,” Sam says with a laugh as they reach her room. She’s opens the door and Sam’s eyes widen. “Your room is huge!”  


“Being a hall director has its perks. The bathroom is probably the biggest one, though.”  


“I’m so over shower shoes, I would kill for my own shower.”  


“You’re not the only one, I’m sure,” Peggy says and it doesn’t take a psych major to understand the reason for the frustration in her voice.  


“He tells me he’s handling it,” Sam tells her.  


“Of course he is. And how exactly is he handling it?”  


“By being the bigger man, with some light sabotage for good measure.”  


“Light sabotage?” Peggy asks.  


“I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”  


“Of course you’re not. He’s being subtle about it, at least?”  


“From what I can tell. I’m not sure if Brock would even clue in if it wasn’t subtle,” Sam says with a smirk.  


“I really feel like I shouldn’t be talking as much shit about some of my residents as I feel like we do.”  


“You can’t fool me Carter, I know you hate Rumlow just as much as the rest of us. I also know that you hated Kruger last year.”  


“He was so terrible,” Peggy says before she can stop herself. Her eyes widen as she realizes what she says and Sam lets out a loud laugh.  


“Sounds like Steve isn’t the one who needs to work on his subtlety.”  


“I’m usually better at it, to be honest,” Peggy tells him and Sam believes her.  


“Well you’re a hall director now, you probably have to be professional and not sabotage people you don’t like.”  


“No, that'd probably cost me my job," Peggy laughs. "It probably wouldn't end well for my independent study proposal, either. My only way to take down Zola is to demolish the shit out of his program proposal with my awesome one.”  


“Zola? That’s the name of the guy you’re presenting opposite of? Seriously, where do you meet these people?”  


“He’s German,” Peggy says dismissively.  


“Of course he is. So how are you going to demolish the shit out of him?”  


“By showing that an organization that’s centered on being covert in order to help eliminate or settle internal and external conflicts proactively to prevent public panic and promote order in general would be more successful than an organization that’s covert as means to promote order through a fear-driven security state.”  


“I take it you’re the former.”  


“SHIELD,” Peggy clarifies happily.  


“And Zola is?”  


“HYDRA. Steve threw together a quick logo for SHIELD for me. I don’t know who helped Zola with his but it kind of looks like an octopus which is kind of the opposite of a HYDRA, but I digress.”  


“Well I mean that should get you the win on merit alone.”  


Sam ends up spending a solid thirty minutes in Peggy’s room, where he learns about Dugan and the rest of the “Howling Commandos” as Peggy called them, and about her cousin, Sharon, who was just starting her college application process. He also learned more about her SHIELD proposal and Zola’s HYDRA proposal. He’s no poly sci major but he’s smart enough to know HYDRA’s fucked up. Sam tried convincing her to go to a party on Friday night that Clint had told him about and he think he succeeded.  


The conversation is winding down when Peggy smiles and says, “you’re a good guy, Sam.” Her smile suddenly twists into something more knowing, more mischievous, and Sam suddenly has a bad idea about where this conversation is about to go. Then Peggy says, “I’m surprised you’re so down with breaking dorm rules by sleeping with someone on staff.” Sam’s still struggling to find a response to that when Peggy laughs and cries out, “Who’s unsubtle now, Wilson!”  


“How many people know?”  


“Just me. Steve is remarkably unaware of how much time you spend across the hall and Barnes has noticed that Natasha’s become more lax but hasn’t figured out why. Honestly though, if you two are trying to be secretive you should probably stop eye-fucking as much as you do. Or at least tone down the physicality during the games of Mario Kart. No one who are just friends are that touchy and bumpy and the like.”  


“First off, Mario Kart brings out the physical aggression in everyone and you should not have it so easily accessible,” Sam begins desperately, trying to ignore Peggy’s subsequent scoff. “Second off, you’re ignoring the eye-fucking happening between Bucky and Steve so we’re not the only rule-breakers in this dorm.”  


“Yes, but Barnes and Rogers aren’t actually having sex. Nor do they want to just be having sex,” Peggy replies. Whatever point Sam was about to make sort of falls away when she says that and it doesn’t go unnoticed.  


“Oh,” Peggy says and Sam can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. “Speaking as someone who has known Natasha for a couple of years now, just talk to her, Sam. She’s not going to bullshit you, you know that. This isn’t a movie, don’t toil through the unnecessary miscommunication part of your story.”  
Sam gives her a weak smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  


“Probably?”  


“Alright, more than probably. You’re humble, too.” Peggy rolls her eyes. “I really liked hanging out with you, this last part not included,” Sam tells her as he gets up from Peggy’s couch. Peggy looks at him, waiting. “Alright, this last part wasn’t bad either. It at least helped a little bit.”  


Peggy laughs and says, “I did, too. Would you like to get dinner again sometime?”  


“You asking me on a date, Miss Carter?” Sam’s smiling a little wider now and Peggy’s pleased with herself.  


“Yes, Mr. Wilson, I am. Would you like to go on a friend-date with me same time next week?”  


“Well then, it’s a date.” He salutes her and leaves her room.  


* * * *

 **Peggy has a problem. She’s coming to realize that she may not be as straight as she originally believed. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it’s definitely a new development in her life.**  


Peggy was trying to be a good host so she avoided looking at her phone while Sam was over but she did see that Angie had texted her.  


_English, if I murder Whitney Frost will you help me bury the body?_  


Peggy’s messaging her back and trying tamp down the smile on her face when Steve walks in.  


“What’re you so smiley about?”  


“Girls,” she says, because she knows Steve will get it and she trusts him.  


Steve shuts the door gently and sits down on the bed. “Okay.” It’s an invitation to keep talking.  


“You know Angie Martinelli, right?”  


“The theatre major? Yeah. I saw her in _A Chorus Line_ last semester. She was very good.”  


“Okay, so I met her my first semester sophomore year when we were in the same Music Appreciation class and she sat down near me and we hit it off, which was really nice, because most of my classes had been pretty guy-heavy. So we’ve hung out a lot and gotten pretty close, I’d probably be living with her if I weren’t on staff. Sometimes I find myself wondering what it would be like to live with her. Like, I love being a hall director, don’t get me wrong, but I wish I got to spend more time with her and, like, I noticed over time that our conversations had become a little more, flirtatious, I guess, and I didn’t mind? I’ve been being flirtatious back and I’m feeling like I used to feel when I was first starting to see Daniel, but towards Angie. So I’m kind of confused.”  


“Yeah, you might be a little bisexual, or pansexual or demisexual” – Peggy has no idea what those last two ones are – “Or you might just have a hardcore girl crush. Does she have feelings back?”  


“I’m pretty sure she does. Natasha seems to think so.”  


Steve lets out a surprised bark of laughter. “Natasha? Really? I wouldn’t have pegged her for the romantic-girl-talky type.”  


“There’s more to her than you know, Steve. I think you two would get along really well if you got to know each other better.”  


“I mean she’s clearly a good RA. She’s already made Khamala and America want to join staff next year.”  


“Oh, really? That’s amazing, they’d both be so good on staff! Khamala is so personable and America has that natural take-charge personality that I think new residents would look up to and –”  


“I agree with you, Peggy, I do, but I wasn’t trying to change the subject,” Steve interrupts. Peggy frowns. “Do you have any idea of what you’re going to do about Angie?”  


“I don’t know. I was thinking of seeing if she wanted to go to that party Sam told me about, the housewarming party Matt Murdoch is throwing?”  


“Oh is that actually happening this time? Clint mentioned it to me months ago and then I hadn’t heard anything since then so I figured it was a bust.”  


“Yes, Sam explained it all to me. So it’s a two story house with a basement and each floor is separately rented out. The two girls, Claire and Karen moved in above Foggy and Matt, and Luke moved in with Jessica Jones below them, so they’ve taken over the whole house. It’s kind of hard to find a night that works between six different schedules, though, so they haven’t had a time that worked until now. Sam says it’s going to be ridiculous.”  


“When’d he tell you about it?”  


“I ran into him in the Ditko cafeteria and we had dinner together tonight. He’s a pretty cool guy, I see why you get along so well. It’s a shame that system errored and you didn’t get roomed with him like you requested.”  


Steve shrugs. “Things happen. I was thinking about seeing if he wanted to get a place together off-campus next year. Riley too, if he was interested.”  


“I’m sorry your roommate situation is the way it is this year. I feel like it’s my fault since I’m the one who told you to try and get a room in Brubaker.”  


“No, Peggy, stop. You were right, this is the best building on campus. The bathrooms are way nicer and the bedrooms are bigger than anywhere else. We may not have an elevator but it doesn’t even matter. The staff’s a lot cooler, too. You and Nat, Carol and Jessica Drew, Bucky.”  


“Yeah you and Barnes seem particularly close.”  


Steve makes an exasperated noise. “I don’t know what we are. Sometimes I think we’re flirting and that he’s checking me out but I never know for sure.”  


Peggy rolls her eyes and says, “don’t play dumb Steve, it’s not a good look on you.”  


“I don’t know what you mean, Carter.”  


“I mean if I can be honest about my feelings then you can, too.”  


“Uh oh, Carter, you just admitted to having feelings,” Steve says with a wry grin.  


“Okay, yes, Steven, I have feelings for Angie. And I’m not entirely sure what to do about that because I’ve never had feelings for a girl before and it’s scary but if I’m willing to do something about it than you damn well can be willing to do something about yours.”  


Steve deflates. “I know. I’ve just never had a real relationship before, Peggy, and I want that with Bucky, I think, and I’m worried I’ll mess it up.”  


“Of course you’ll mess it up, Steve,” Peggy begins and she holds up a hand so he can’t interrupt her. “Messing up happens in every relationship, it’s not going to be perfect. It’s a matter of working past those mess-ups together and being willing to accept the other person, messiness and all.”  


“I’m a pretty messy person, Peggy.”  


“And Barnes is, too. And so am I” – Steve scoffs at that but Peggy continues, undeterred – “And so is Angie, I’m sure, but I think that I’m willing to find that out.” Peggy pauses before repeating, quietly, “I’m willing to find that out.” When she looks up Steve is smiling.  


“Looks like we’re attending a party this weekend, then, Carter.”


	2. Problem Solved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An off-campus housewarming party is just the thing everyone needs to get their feelings out.

**Peggy Carter: Problem solved.**

Peggy calls Natasha at 9 o’clock, not because she can’t decide what to wear, but because she wants a second opinion. At least that’s what she tells Natasha. 

She’s still staring at the dresses she has laid out on her futon and her bed when Natasha comes in. 

“So I’ve narrowed it down to these five,” Peggy says. 

“Okay,” Natasha says, and she immediately begins looking over her choices. Peggy has to physically stop herself from rocking on her feet while she waits. This isn’t like her, something that Natasha picks up on. 

“You aren’t usually this uncertain about your style,” Natasha tells her as she moves from the bed to the futon, picking up a pale blue dress, examining it, and setting it back down. 

“I’m not usually this nervous,” Peggy admits. 

Natasha turns to look at her, her expression soft. “You know you don’t need to be, right? You’re a catch, Carter, and Angie knows it.” 

“I just want to give off the vibe that I think she’s a catch, too, so I want to look nice.” 

Natasha moves around her to pick up a red dress off of Peggy’s bed. “This one. It’s not super low-cut or short but it’s still a little revealing. You can tease her a bit, show her that you aren’t just taking the night lightly and want to look good for her. Sexy and stylish.” 

“Okay, give me a minute,” Peggy says. She takes the dress from Natasha’s hand and disappears into her bathroom to change and curl her hair. She and Natasha make small talk before she emerges a few minutes later and Natasha gives a low wolf-whistle. 

“Yeah?” Peggy asks, grinning. 

“Oh yeah. Just wait ‘til Angie sees you. You’ll definitely be more than gal pals by the end of the night.” 

“Here’s hoping,” Peggy says with a shake of her head. She looks at Natasha, who’s wearing a MARVEL U sweater that Peggy is fairly certain she saw Sam wearing a few weeks ago and pajama shorts. “You, on the other hand, do not look ready for a party.” 

Natasha shrugs. “Still have some advisor stuff to sort out. Reconsidering my schedule for next semester and stuff. I’ll try and stop by later.” 

“I hope so,” Peggy replies. “I know Sam was pretty excited for this party and I’m sure you not being there would dampen his mood.” 

The only change of Natasha’s expression is a quirk of her lips. “When did you figure it out?” 

“A couple of weeks ago. I saw the way he was looking at you during your office hours one day. I thought I was just seeing something that wasn’t there until I saw you checking him out as he left the office a few days later. Once I noticed it, it wasn’t hard to keep noticing. No one else knows, as far as I can tell.” 

“I’ll hopefully stop by later,” Natasha tells her with a small smile. “You look good, Peggy. I hope you have a good night.” With that, she leaves the room. 

Peggy spends the next 15 minutes alternating between pacing around her room and sitting on her futon with her leg bouncing. She also double checks that, yes, Angie is going to the party. Eventually she decides it’s a reasonable time to go meet Steve and they walk a few blocks away from campus to the Cage-Jones-Murdoch-Nelson-Page-Temple house. 

The party isn’t a total rager, but it’s definitely larger than what Peggy is used to. She can see lights on on each floor, there’s a small crowd gathered on the porch, and someone apparently hooked up speakers to be playing on all three floors because the music seems to be coming from all around her. 

She manages to find all six housemates before she finds Angie in the backyard, talking to their friend Rose. Peggy takes a moment to appreciate the deep neck line on Angie’s green top before making her way over. Angie’s face lights up when she sees Peggy and Peggy smiles back. 

After a bit of small talk Angie says, “Way to finally join the party, English! Rose refuses to dance with me so go do a shot of whatever will get you on the dance floor.” 

“I don’t need a shot of anything to want to dance with you,” Peggy tells her. She’s laying down her cards earlier than she planned but honestly she couldn’t stop herself. 

Angie gets a goofy little smile on her face at that before she shakes her head and pulls Peggy back into the house. They drink and dance, bodies close together, for a while before Angie has to pull away for some air. They end up on the front porch where Karen and Foggy are shit-talking one of their law professors so they end up just walking instead. There are a few students on their way to the house party and a few more on a porch further down the street but other than that the night is fairly quiet. 

“Sorry, it was starting to get a little hot in there,” Angie says. 

“Yeah, the music coming from the entire house was a little overwhelming,” Peggy replies with a laugh. 

“I’m glad you came, though,” Angie tells her. 

“Yeah, I am, too. I’m having a really good time. I’m getting kind of hungry, though,” she admits. 

“Oh my god, I know, right? I’m starving!” Angie blurts out before giving an embarrassed giggle at the eagerness of her response. 

“I know an all-night diner, if you want to dip out on the rest of the party,” Peggy says. She holds out her hand and holds her breath. The rest of her cards are down but she isn’t scared. Angie places her hand in Peggy’s with a smile and Peggy grins back. 

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Angie tells her, her voice quiet and hopeful. 

“You should do that,” Peggy whispers back. 

So Angie does, and her lips are soft and her hands are gentle against Peggy’s back and Peggy’s smiling so much it’s kind of affecting her ability to kiss Angie back. After a few minutes Peggy’s stomach actually growls and she pulls away. “So,” she begins, a bit breathless. “I really liked that, and I would really like to do more of that, but I would also really like some food.” 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Angie replies. 

They get back to Peggy’s car, make out a little more, and eventually make it to the diner and order some burgers. 

“So does this count as our first date?” Angie teases. 

“I hope so,” Peggy says. 

“24-hour diner burgers and shakes, I like it!” 

“Okay, so,” Peggy finds herself saying again. “I like you, as previously established. But I haven’t done all this with a girl before, so please bear with me. There’s going to be a little bit of a learning curve to get used to things and that might take me a little time.” 

“And I’m okay with that,” Angie assures her. “We can move forward at whatever pace you’re comfortable with and we’ll figure out what works for us.” 

“I’d like that,” Peggy says with a great feeling of relief. “I’d also like our food to arrive,” she calls out, looking around at the nearly empty diner. 

“English, stop!” Angie hisses with a laugh that Peggy returns. Their waiter might’ve scowled slightly when placing Peggy’s burger in front of her but it’s okay because, honestly, it might be the best first date Peggy’s ever had. She leaves their waiter a good tip and they head back to campus. 

“So,” Angie says when they’re waiting at a red light. “Are you on call at all this weekend?” 

“No,” Peggy tells her. 

“Well, if you want to, you could stay at my place tonight. It’s up to you, though, and I’m not trying to push forward the pace of this in a way to make you uncomfortable but I also really like the idea of getting to sleep next to you but like I said if you don’t want to –“ 

“Yes,” Peggy says, cutting her off. 

“Yes?” 

“Yes, definitely.” 

“Okay, cool. Okay, okay.” 

“You alright?” Peggy asks. 

Angie makes a noise of affirmation before admitting, “just, now that this is actually happening, it’s a little, whoa. Like, the thought of you staying at my place tonight is _whoa_.” 

Yeah, it is. But it’s a good whoa,” Peggy says. 

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Angie agrees. 

Angie smiles at Peggy. Peggy smiles back. The light turns green. They move forward. 

****

 **Sam Wilson: Problem solved.**

“Have you seen Peggy or Natasha anywhere?” Sam asks Jessica Jones, who was rummaging around in her kitchen cabinets. 

After several moments Jessica pulls back, holding a bottle of whiskey and grinning. “Sorry, what was that?” 

“Peggy or Natasha, have you seen either of them lately?” 

“Um, Karen told me Peggy left with some girl a while ago. Might’ve been Cassie?” Jessica tells him as she unscrews the cap off the bottle and takes a drink. “Cassie?” Sam asks. Sam knows a lot of people, but he doesn’t know a Cassie. 

“Oh, shit, no, that’s not her name!” Jessica set down the bottle so she could gesture with both hands. “She _played_ Cassie in _A Chorus Line_. I don’t remember her actual name. I’m not sure if I even know it, actually.” 

“Angie Martinelli?” Sam offers. 

“I dunno, maybe?” Jessica says with a shrug. She takes another drink. 

Sam sighs. “How about Natasha?” 

“I haven’t seen her at all,” Jessica tells him. She sounds certain this time. 

Sam sighs again. “Alright, thanks.” 

“No problem, pal,” Jessica says, giving him a thumbs up. 

He steps out into the backyard and shoots Natasha a text to see if she had changed her mind about coming. He hopes she hasn’t but he knows she’s had a pretty stressful week so he’d get it if she was no longer up for it. He gets a message back a few seconds later letting him know she’s on her way. 

There are a few smaller conversations happening out back but they’re all pretty separate from one another so he decides to head back inside. Sam arrived with Clint but he lost him almost immediately. Sam considers himself to be a pretty charismatic guy but he continues to be surprised by the fact that Clint might be the most personable person he knows despite the fact that he apparently lives on coffee and will go three days without changing shirts. He hasn’t seen Steve or Bucky in a while, either, but he thinks that might be a lost cause. 

Luke Cage finds him refilling his drink and cajoles him into playing a game of beer pong. 

Sam doesn’t know much about Luke but he does know that he works at the bar _Hell’s Kitchen_ , just near campus and he can work with that. “So, you glad to be the one drinking and not serving drinks for a change?” 

Luke lets out a loud laugh. “Man, you have no idea! Like, HK’s a great place but I swear some nights…” The conversation goes from there. Hell yeah, Sam’s personable. 

Luke dips out after they win to go find Jessica. “I was talking to her in your kitchen right before I went outside, so maybe start there?” Sam suggests. Luke leaves Sam with a clap on the shoulder – _shit, does that man have large hands_ – and a “thanks!” He sees Nat when he watches Luke walk away and tries to get her to play but she makes a vague motion with her arms, which are stocked with water bottles, and vanishes up the stairs. Scott and Logan manage to boot him from table before Nat comes back downstairs and that is not a game he foresees ending well. 

He wants to give her shit for costing him his spot at the table but before he can she tells him she got her advisor changed to Dr. Hawley and he’s too happy for her to care anymore. She declares she needs a victory drink and they move outside. 

“Where’d you vanish off to earlier?” Sam asks her because he feels like an appropriate amount of time has passed and he’s also really curious. 

“Water detail for Matt, Clint, and Claire,” she tells him. 

“Ah, that makes sense. Well tell Matt, Clint, and Claire that I lost my spot at the table because of them.” 

“Just yell up the stairs, I’m sure they’ll all appreciate that.” He teasingly makes a move to do so and she reins him in with a laugh. 

“Nah, I wouldn’t do that to Claire. The other two, though, they’re on my list.” 

“Oh yeah?” Natasha asks, a smile playing at her lips. 

“Oh yeah. I bet we could have been a killer team and if we went back inside we’d have to wait through, like, four more games to wait and see.” Sam doesn’t realize how that sounded until after he says it. 

Nat’s quiet for a moment before she says, “I think we could be a pretty good team, too. I think we should find out. If you want to.” 

It takes a second to register what she’s really saying and when he catches on, Sam’s smile is blinding. “I want to.” He kisses her firmly and pulls away. “I’m gonna take you on a real date.” 

“And I absolutely want that to happen, but right now, I am craving some lousy Mexican food from that place near campus,” she tells him and Sam can’t stop himself from kissing her again. 

“That sounds perfect,” he says. They cut back through the house where Scott and Logan are arguing loudly next to pong table. “Called that,” Sam mutters to Nat. 

“Not my problem tonight,” Nat mutters back with a smirk. 

Two burritos later they head back to Nat’s dorm room to eat. 

“Can I just say,” Sam starts once he finishes his burrito, “that that was a fantastic decision.” 

“I’m full of them,” Nat replies as she takes a drink of water. 

Sam can’t not ask, “so what made you decide to make this one?” He makes a large circling gesture with his hand to try and encompass the two of them. 

Nat sets down her water and puts the cap back on the bottle before talking. “Well, I’d been coming to that decision for a little while now, just with how much I like spending time with you and not just in bed but when you would stop by during my office hours but your support over the past week while I’ve been sorting all of this advisor crap out was that last push I needed to get myself to make a move.” 

“I’m sorry about all the grief Pierce has given you but I’m glad that it ended well,” Sam tells her. 

“You talking about Hawley or yourself?” Natasha teases. 

“Hey now!” Sam cries with a laugh. “I was definitely talking about Hawley but this is nice, too.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Natasha agrees, as she begins to collect the trash from their meal. 

“I can do that,” Sam insists, throwing his own garbage in their takeout bag and getting up off the floor to throw it away. 

“My boyfriend’s such a gentleman,” Nat hums and oh man, does Sam like the way that sounds. 

“I’m your boyfriend,” Sam says with a large smile. 

“Yes, yes you are.” 

“Awesome.” He kisses her. “I get to do that now, like, whenever!” 

“You should keep doing that,” Nat says. 

Sam really wants to, which is why it pains him to say, “Not to kill the mood but can we let the Mexican food settle a bit first? Burritos aren’t much of an aphrodisiac, Nat.” 

“No, that’s probably a good idea. A burrito seemed like such a good idea at the time, though,” Nat says, almost like a whine; Sam thinks it’s cute. “Want to watch some _Parks and Recreation_?” 

“Definitely.” Nat strips out of her shirt and jeans and Sam follows suit before they climb into her bed. She starts up an episode and settles into Sam’s arms. Sam thinks that Nat falls asleep some time during the second episode that plays but he’s not entirely sure. He knows he doesn’t remember hearing the show’s theme music for a third time so he couldn’t have been awake that much longer. 

They get to have sleepy morning sex, though, so Sam calls it a win. 

_Yeah_ , Sam thinks as he kisses his way down Nat’s body, _he could definitely get used to this._

****

 **Natasha Romanoff: Problem solved.**

Natasha doesn’t often doubt herself, her discussion with Sam earlier this week about Pierce certainly affirmed that. That being said, she may or may not have been triple-checking every emails she’s sent today because although she’d spoken with Dr. Hawley before, she wants to make a good, professional first impression now that Natasha officially has her for an advisor. So it’s been a day filled with _I’m very grateful for you being willing to take me on as an advisee_ and _yes, I can bring in a list of graduate programs I’m looking at for our first meeting_ and _I believe I’m completed all of the official paperwork necessary but do I need to complete anything else on my end?_

She also had to figure out how to send a thank you email to Pierce that didn’t sound completely disingenuous after he sent her, _Natasha, I have been informed that your request to change advisors was granted. I hope Dr. Hawley is a better fit for you. Good luck with your future endeavors._ In the end she sends back a curt, _Thank you. I appreciate the help you provided while you were my advisor._ She would have loved to just reply back with a _fuck off_ , but life doesn't really work that way. In between refreshing her emails, she also managed to finish her Russian Lit paper and take a nap so she’s had a pretty great day. 

She’s gotten texts from Peggy, James, and Sam about the housewarming party that she really doesn’t feel like going to but she eventually sends out a _yeah, I’ll see you there_ , text to all three of them. Peggy says that she's heading over with Steve and Natasha is welcome to join them while Bucky complains that Peggy has ditched her for Steve so he needs to show up with an even hotter date. Sam sends back a smiley face. 

She scrolls back through her texts with Sam over the past week. After she’d told him that she’d started the process to request a change in advisor he’d ask her about updates and how it was going each day or two. They were just casual check-ins, nothing pushy, just making sure she wasn’t getting too stressed or anything. It was the sweetest thing someone had done for her in a while. 

Natasha’s enjoyed the casual thing the two of them have had going on since the start of the semester and she’s not sure when she realized Sam was hoping for something more but she had picked up on it. Admittedly, she had sort of played it off at first because she wasn’t at that point and hadn’t had the best experiences with relationships in the past. Sam had been different, though. He hadn’t been vindictive or angry about the fact that she’s pretty closed off, hasn’t made unsubtle passive aggressive comments to try get her to change who she is. 

She’d been warming up to the idea of making her thing with Sam into something more but he’s been especially great this past week and it really solidified that she wanted to take that next step. She hadn’t even told Peggy or James about her good news because she wanted to tell Sam first, and she wanted to do it in person. Peggy and James will both be annoyed at that and probably give her some shit but apparently feelings are going around this week so whatever, she’ll have feelings and own the hell out of them. 

She fine tunes her essay and plans to play some Candy Crush with _Parks and Recreation_ playing as background noise until she’s finally motivated to walk over. Instead, she ends up falling back asleep and wakes up later than she anticipated and quickly cleans herself up before she leaves the dorm. 

Sam texts her just as she walks past the office where Jessica Drew calls out, “have fun tonight for those of us who can’t!” Nat gives her a quick wave before texting Sam that she’s finally on her way over. She holds off on sharing the good news. The party is raucous when she arrives, people on the porch and in the yard, music blasting. She’s grateful that this area off-campus is nearly all college students because otherwise she’d be concerned about someone calling in. She’s still aware that it could happen but she figures it’s not as likely. 

Kate and Karen are on the front porch with a blond guy she she doesn't recognize. Karen introduces him as Foggy, Matt's roommate, and Natasha talks up with them for a bit before she officially heads inside. She spots Sam playing beer pong with Luke so she wanders a bit more. It’s quieter upstairs and she finds Clint, Matt, and Claire hanging out in Claire’s kitchen. Matt’s buried his face in one of his arms, the other stretched across the table. 

“It’s like people forgot there’s an entire upstairs level of the house,” Natasha tells them as she walks up. 

“Thankfully,” Claire says with a chuckle. 

“Me and Matty decided to face off on Ride the Bus,” Clint says slowly, his words very pronounced. 

“We both lost,” Matt mutters into his arms. 

“Or we both won,” Clint shoots back. 

“They both lost,” Claire assures. 

“You need anything?” Natasha asks them. 

“There should be more water in one of the coolers downstairs, could you bring some up?” Claire asks. 

Natasha heads back downstairs and has an armful of waters when Sam spots her. “Nat! Get over here! I need a new partner!” She tries to gesture to give her minute but it’s not easy with no hands to do so. She hopes she gets the point across and runs the waters upstairs and by the time she gets back to the main floor Sam’s no longer at the game table. 

“I have good news,” she tells him the moment he walks up. 

“What is it?” Sam asks, a smile already forming. She knows he knows what it is but he’s letting her be the one to say it. Oh man, does she have feelings. 

“Dr. Hawley is officially my new advisor,” she tells him with a matching smile. 

Sam whoops and pumps his fist. “Hell yeah! I told you it’d happen!” 

“You did,” Natasha says, still smiling. “Thank you for that, Sam. I really appreciated those texts this week.” 

Sam ducks his head. “Nah, it was nothing.” 

“Well then thank you for that nothing,” Natasha insists, and when Sam raises his head to look at her she kisses him. He cups her face with one of his hands but the kiss is light, natural. She pulls away after a moment and says, “now come on, I’ve earned a victory drink.” They grab drinks and move out to the backyard. 

It's quieter outside, which Natasha is grateful for, and Sam says yes when she asks him out, which she appreciates even more. Sam kisses her deeply and promises he’s going to take her on a real date. While she likes the idea of going on a real date with him, she _really_ likes the idea of him buying her a burrito from the trashy Mexican joint near campus. He does. He’s a good boyfriend. 

They walk over and hold hands on the way there and it’s almost surreal how natural it feels. Their banter still flows easily and at one point Sam stops to pull her close and kiss her and he buys her a burrito. It’s kind of overwhelming. 

They head back to the dorm. Jessica Drew is still in the office for some reason and though Natasha wants to go back to her room and have a date with her boyfriend and maybe some sex, she’s still an RA and still has a job to do. “Shouldn’t your hours be done by now?” 

Jessica looks up from her computer, a frazzled look on her face. “Yeah, a while ago, but Carol’s dealing with a crisis so I took over for her.” 

“You need me to do anything?” Natasha asks. 

“No, not tonight, but we’ll probably have a meeting before the weekend is over. Don’t worry though, just go enjoy the rest of your night.” 

Natasha pauses for a minute before saying, “I feel like you’d enjoy your night a bit more if you had a drink.” 

Jessica’s eyes light up. “I really, really would.” 

Nat and Sam head up to her room and Nat says sternly, “you don’t know that this is here,” before she pulls a bottle of vodka out of the freezer of her mini-fridge. She mixes a drink in one of her reusable water bottles, kisses Sam because she can, and brings the bottle down to Jessica. 

“You’re an angel,” Jessica says as she immediately takes a big gulp. Her eyes widen and she huffs out a loud exhale. “Or a devil! Shit, Natasha, how strong is this?” 

Natasha smirks. “You looked like you needed it. Are you sure I can’t do anything?” Once Jessica assures her that she doesn’t, Natasha heads back upstairs. 

Natasha Romanoff’s first date with Sam Wilson is eating Mexican food on the floor of her dorm room and she wouldn’t change a thing. She’s definitely not in the mood for sex after that meal and instead they fall asleep watching TV together, which was kind of even better. 

“Good morning,” Sam says sleepily when they wake up. 

“You were the first person I told,” Natasha replies when she realizes she never let him know last night. 

“What?” Sam asks. 

“About me getting my advisor switched. You were the first person I told. I wanted to tell you first,” she clarifies. 

Sam grins and kisses her and he doesn’t stop kissing her. 

****

 **Bucky Barnes: Problem solved.**

Bucky walks to the party by himself so he’s not even sure who all is around when he shows up. He can’t find Natasha or Steve or Peggy, or even Sam or Clint, so he roams through the party until he gets pulled into a game of flip cup with Dum Dum and Morita and company. He hadn’t really seen them this semester so he chats with them for a while, catching up on how their classes are going and the like. He excuses himself to grab another drink and sees Peggy’s friend Rose coming inside from the backyard and heads over to her. 

“Hey James,” she says with a smile as he walks up. 

“Hey Rose, you seen Peggy around here?” 

Rose’s smile turns more knowing. “Yeah, she’s outside with Angie. I left once I realized Peggy wasn’t going to gossip about any of your residents.” 

Bucky smirks back and says, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s the only reason you wanted to leave those two.” 

“I may not wingwoman very often but I do know the optimal time to dip out of a conversation. So how about it? Call center horror story in exchange for a dorm room horror story?” 

They swap a couple of stories and run into Morita when they go to refill their drinks. He’s introducing the two of them when he spots Steve playing beer pong with Claire. The next thing he knows he has a fresh cup of beer in his hand and he distantly hears Rose saying, “So where’s the rest of your group? I’ve heard some stories about you all from Peggy but I don’t know if I’ve really met any of you.” 

“Well we should remedy that,” Morita tells her and she winks at Bucky as they walk away. 

Bucky locks eyes with Steve once he’s done talking with Claire and walks over. 

“Looks like you didn’t get a chance to drink very much during that game, given how cleanly you wiped the floor with those two,” Bucky says to him as he hands him one of the cups. 

“That’s kind of the point of the game, Buck,” Steve quips back before taking a sip of the beer. 

Steve Rogers is such a goddamn punk and Bucky has it so bad. “Yeah, well, beer pong isn’t my strong suit,” Bucky shoots back. 

“So what is?” Steve asks him. His tone is less snarky and more earnest than Bucky is used to hearing. 

“Dancin’,” Bucky tells him, almost instantly. Bucky knows a chance when he has one and he takes it full force. 

“Well, that ain’t one of mine,” Steve says back just as quickly. 

“Too bad, punk, because you got your turn to show off and now I get mine.” Bucky hopes he’s not forcing anything but Steve doesn’t argue when Bucky draws him towards the dance floor. 

Two songs later and, wow, okay, Steve was not lying when he said it wasn’t a strong suit. He’s way too stiff for the song that’s playing and Bucky’s hoping that it’s more because he’s just not that good at dancing and not because he’s dancing with him. 

Someone knocks into Steve from behind and Bucky catches his arms before he can really stumble. After making sure Steve’s alright he uses their new position to his advantage. He adjusts Steve’s movement so that it looks more natural and soon their dancing against each other. Steve’s a fast learner because within the next couple of songs he’s grinding against Bucky with ease. One of Steve’s arms slides up to wrap around his shoulders and Bucky can feel that Steve is hard and he’s hard, too, and he can’t stop staring at Steve’s mouth and it’s a rush of _ohmygodfinally_ when Steve presses his mouth to Bucky’s. 

Bucky makes a move to deepen the kiss and Steve gives in instantly. He slides a hand from Steve’s side up to cup his face and Steve shivers against him. When Steve simultaneously rakes his nails down his back while grinding their hips together Bucky nearly comes undone right there on the dance floor. His head drops to the crook of Steve’s neck so he starts kissing the hollow of his throat and he’s wanted this so badly that he almost doesn’t realize his phone is vibrating in his back pocket. 

He separates himself from Steve just enough to answer it and he immediately wishes that he hadn’t because fuck he does not want to go deal with the shitstorm he knows is about to unfold. But he does, giving Steve a quick goodbye kiss. It’s softer, nothing like the makeout session that was just happening, and Bucky hopes it helps to convey how much he feels for the smaller man. 

Bucky has never done a stronger 180-degree turnaround in how he’s feeling than going from making out with Steve Rogers to finding out that Brock Rumlow lit his goddamn dorm room on fire. 

He gets back to Brubaker and Jessica Drew mouths, “good luck with that,” as he storms by the office. _Fuck._

The next hour and a half goes by in a blur. Carol’s already tearing into Brock when he walks into the room. Phrases like _damage to school property_ and _lucky there was no damage to your roommate’s property_ and _the danger you put your floormates in_ are said. 

“Well, at least I found out that the floor’s smoke alarm is broken for you. They really should check those more often, it’s a safety hazard,” Brock says at one point and Bucky sees red. 

T’Challa comes in and Carol’s intimidating in a take-no-shit way but T’Challa’s intimidating in a strong, silent way. T’Challa starts talking about paperwork and ramifications and immediate removal from the dorm and doesn’t raise his voice once but Bucky can still watch Brock’s drunken bravado turn into a realization of ‘I’ve fucked up deeply.’ 

T’Challa leaves to get some paperwork from his room and Bucky almost thinks Brock is about to start apologizing but then he starts going off about his parents filing lawsuits and broken fire alarms being health code violations and this is not how Bucky saw his night ending. T’Challa comes back with a handful of forms he passes off to Bucky and Carol and he tells them to get started on while he begins to lay out to Brock what exactly is going to happen to him because of his actions. 

“Literally, what the fuck?” Bucky asks Carol once they’re headed back towards the office. 

Carol lets out a long sigh. “I was doing my rounds and I could smell something smoky coming from his and Steve’s room and at first I thought it was pot but it smelled like something else, too. It took me a second before I realized it smelled like actual burning smoke and so I start pounding on the door and I hear a bunch of commotion and cursing and shit and I heard him lock the door from the inside and thankfully I had the master key so I opened it and he’s trying to dump bottles of water on his bed which is fucking on fire because he apparently dropped his lighter on his sheets after lighting a joint and thought it’d be fun to watch it burn.” 

“Literally, what the fuck?” Bucky says again. 

They get down to the office and Carol thanks Jessica for taking over her office hours for her. They fill her in on what happened and she throws up her hands and leaves claiming, “it’s too late to deal with this shit.” 

“No kidding,” Carol mutters. They fill out paperwork, send a few emails, and Bucky sends Peggy a few texts that he doesn’t get an answer to. “Thank you for getting back here so quickly,” Carol tells him as they pack their things up. “Like, I’ve handled a lot of shit while I’ve been on staff but that was a new one and the backup definitely helped.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Bucky says with a wave of his hand. “You looked like you definitely had a handle on him when I got there.” 

“Well yeah, I can more than handle Brock Rumlow,” Carol says and Bucky lets out a tired laugh, “but even that was a little outside of my wheelhouse.” 

Bucky continues up to his floor after Carol reaches hers and he crosses to Peggy’s side to write _CALL ME TOMORROW_ on her message board before he heads to his room. He strips down to his boxers, falls into bed, and sleeps until the following afternoon. 

He wakes up six texts from Peggy, three from Natasha, one each from Carol and T’Challa, and zero from Steve. He tries not to be too disappointed. 

Peggy’d sent him a long apology message involving her phone being dead and Angie not having a charger and _I don’t want to hear it, Barnes_ and she’s spoken with T’Challa and they’ve gotten the ball rolling with everything. T'Challa's text just verifies that Peggy talked to him and Carol's lets him know that she's finished her paperwork and that she checked the fire alarm Brock said was broken and found that it had been disconnected. Brock hadn't owned up to doing it yet but she figured it was only a matter of time. Natasha’s three messages say _find me tomorrow and fill me in_ and then, _Peggy told me what happened, let me know if I need to do anything. Or if you need a drink tonight_ and finally, _also, I’m dating Sam._

_Good for them_ , Bucky thinks as he finally rolls out of bed. He responds to some emails about last night’s incident and spends the rest of the day watching the food network and wondering if Steve will text him. He wants to text Steve first but it’s more important to him to let the ball stay in Steve’s court. Based off of what Steve has shared with him about his high school years and his first year of college it didn’t sound like he’d had the easiest time or that many experiences romantically or sexually. Bucky still doesn’t understand because, honestly, how can someone not spend just 15 minutes with the guy and not fall at least a little bit in love with him? Bucky has a bit more experience in those departments but still nothing too significant, so he wants to do this right. So, yes, he’s willing to wait it out until Steve is sure of what exactly he wants and Bucky will take whatever Steve lets him have. That doesn’t mean he can’t be disappointed that it’s five in the afternoon and Steve still hasn’t texted him or shown up at his door.

Sam stops by to ask why Brock’s name is no longer next to Steve’s on their dorm room door and shrugs amicably when Bucky gives him a vague answer. “Will he be back?” Sam asks. Bucky assures him that he won’t be. “Sweet. That’s all I care about,” Sam says with a grin and he leaves. 

Bucky’s taking a break from his _Chopped_ marathon to email T’Challa and Peggy back about the mandatory meeting the RA’s are going to have tomorrow when he finally hears a knock at his door. He hears Steve’s voice before he sees him and if he can’t fight back the grin that appears on his face as he turns around, no one has to know but him and Steve. He’s glad he heard Steve’s voice first because he really was not prepared for what he sees. 

****

 **Steve Rogers: Problem solved.**

Steve gets an idea. It’s a ridiculous idea, even for him. Probably Top 5 Ridiculous Steve Ideas. The party last weekend makes Steve pretty certain that Bucky will be receptive, though, so it’s probably only third or fourth most ridiculous. 

The Party. Steve still can’t believe that actually happened. Brock was already gone when Peggy showed up at Steve’s room around 9:45 Saturday night. “Why aren’t you ready yet?” 

Steve looks up from his sketch. “Oh, sorry, I got distracted.” 

“You aren’t flaking out on me are you, Rogers?” 

Steve sighs before squaring his shoulders and getting up. “No,” he begins. “But I haven’t thought about what to wear so it’s going to be a little while before I’m ready.” 

“Put on that olive green shirt, it looks good with your complexion,” Peggy tells him. 

“You mean my lack of complexion,” Steve remarks dryly, to which Peggy only smiles. Peggy does her makeup in Steve’s mirror while he ducks into the small alcove in the corner of the room to change shirts and out of his flannel pajama pants and into some tight-fitting jeans. 

“You look pretty dressed up,” Steve says, taking in her red dress, one that’s slightly shorter than her usual fare. “I take it a certain theatre major is going to be there?” 

“Yes, she will be,” Peggy says, almost shyly. 

“Good, she deserves to see you in that,” Steve tells her and Peggy gives him a look that’s half-endeared and half-exasperated. 

“Alright, Rogers, we’ve got places to be and people to see. Ready to go?” 

He follows Peggy out of his dorm room and off campus. He kind of trails after her at first, talking with people here and there. He eventually finds Foggy and Luke celebrating a win at beer pong and Claire Temple somehow materializes next to him to drag him into a game. 

“You better be able to keep up with me, Steve. I’ve got to build up some street cred around this place,” she tells him. 

Steve laughs. “You haven’t built up enough already? The stories I’ve heard from Clint about you talking down Murdoch make it seem like you should have more than enough street cred to take on these two.” 

“Well, yes, I know that, but they don’t.” 

“Alright, well let’s see what we can do about that,” Steve says. 

They’ve got Luke and Foggy down to their last three cups and have seven of their own still on the table when Steve sees Bucky walk into the room. He falters and misses his shot but they come back and win it on their next turn. “We need to hang out more often,” Claire tells him as she hugs him. 

"You're doing your nursing clinicals at the hospital near campus, right?" Steve asks her. When she nods he tells her, “Well I’m sure you’ll see me around the hospital sooner or later,” and she laughs. 

Steve doesn’t see who takes his place by Claire because he’s more focused on Bucky sauntering over in a tight white v-neck and holding two red cups. 

Steve banters – or flirts? – with Bucky for a bit and the next thing he’s following Bucky towards the dance floor. To be fair to Bucky, it didn’t take much to get Steve to follow him there. It doesn’t mean he can’t mutter a quiet, “shit,” under as breath as he follows Bucky towards the living room where a crowd people are dancing to a song Steve doesn’t recognize. Bucky can dance, though, his movements fluid and seductive, gyrating just out of Steve’s reach. Steve just sort of shifts his weight back and forth sloppily and he’s still working up the nerve to close the gap between them when someone bumps into him from behind and he stumbles forward. 

“You okay there, Stevie?” Bucky whispers as Steve’s hands grip at Bucky’s biceps. “And loosen up, I know you got moves.” Bucky’s hands trail down Steve’s sides and come to rest on his hips. Bucky guides Steve’s motions and soon they’re more fluid, more like his as they press against each other. The song changes and Steve finds the beat more easily, grinding against Bucky. Within the next few songs Steve can feel himself hardening in his jeans and thinks fuck it, before surging upward and pressing his lips to Bucky’s. Bucky kisses him back like he was expecting it. Maybe he was, Steve thinks. Bucky slips his tongue between Steve's lips and then Steve doesn’t really focus on anything. His hands slide under Bucky’s shirt and his skin is hot against Steve’s palms. He drags his nails down Bucky’s back and Bucky breaks away from Steve’s mouth to groan hotly against his neck. Steve wants to hear that noise again and again. Preferably in a more comfortable setting, like his bed. He’s just slid one hand down to grab Bucky’s ass, the other still pressed against Bucky’s back when Bucky’s butt starts vibrating. Literally vibrating. What. 

“Shit, sorry,” Bucky mutters into Steve’s neck as he pulls out his phone. “What’s up, Carol?” After a few seconds he scowls deeply. “Wait, _what?_ Are you fucking serious right now? Okay, give me a few minutes.” He looks down at Steve. “As much as I liked where this was going, I’ve got a floor situation to go deal with.” 

“What’s going on?” Steve asks. 

“That’s confidential, Stevie, sorry. But don’t end your night because of me, I think Carter and her friend-girl are still here,” he says with a weak smile. Steve stops himself before he says something stupid like, _I’d rather end my night with you._ “But find me later this weekend, yeah?” Steve nods dumbly. Bucky looks at him for a moment before bending back in and giving him a quick kiss, one that’s just as much on his mouth as it is his cheek, and Steve is glad the lack of lights is able to hide his blush. 

Steve doesn’t find Angie or Peggy. He plays a few more games of beer pong with Claire before he calls it a night and heads back to his dorm. The minute he gets to his floor he can hear multiple voices arguing loudly from his room. One of the voices is Carol’s, and she kind of intimidates him, so he completely avoids it. Sam isn’t in his room, and Peggy isn’t in hers so he walks down to the second floor where the male hall director for the building, T’Challa, lives. 

T’Challa’s door is wide open and he’s looking through a stack of folders when Steve knocks on the door. “Hello, Steven,” T’Challa says, the stern set of his lips lifting into a smile. “What can I do for you?” 

“Hey, T’Challa. Um, there’s a lot of arguing happening in my room right now, like, multiple voices. This isn’t something I’d normally bother you about but I was wondering if I could crash on your couch? I can’t find anyone else and I really don’t want to sleep in the lounge.” 

“Absolutely,” T’Challa replies. “You’re welcome to use my phone charger, if you need it. There’s an outlet next to the couch. I can grab you a pair of sweat pants, as well. I’m not sure how well they’ll fit you, though.” 

“Thank you so much, T’Challa. I’ll take you up on the offer of your phone charger but don’t worry about the sweats. I’ve slept in my clothes before, it doesn’t bother me.” 

“Okay, well I can leave a pair out for you if you end up changing your mind,” he says as he pulls a pillow off of his bed to set next to the blanket that is already on his couch. “Now do forgive me, but there’s something that I must go take care of.” T’Challa leaves the room and Steve plugs in his phone before he gets situated on the couch. 

He’s grateful that his phone could charge because he wakes up to an email from his advisor, Dr. Erksine, saying that he’s missing something from his portfolio for an assignment that was due Friday and he has to head straight to the art building. He ends up spending most of the day there, correcting his portfolio, editing some other projects, or just taking breaks from his two actual assignments to sketch (he only draws Bucky twice, he’s pretty proud of himself). 

If he’s being honest, he’s also stalling. Okay, so he likes Bucky. And Bucky likes him, last night sort of cleared up any ambiguity on that part. Steve isn’t sure how Bucky likes him though. Does he want to date him? Steve would like that. Or does Bucky just want to have sex with him? Steve would like that, too, he’s sure. He’s never had full-on sex, though. What if that freaks Bucky out? Should he just not tell him? No, that wouldn’t be good. Steve’s not dumb, he knows that wouldn’t end well when the time actually came. 

He gets a pretty awesome text from Sam that night, when he’s halfway through shading the freight train he’s been working on. 

_DUDE RUMLOW’S OUT OF BRUBAKER._

Steve finishes up his piece in record time and runs as fast as he’s physically able to back to the dorm. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asks Sam the minute the man opens his door. 

“Hello to you, too. I dunno, man. I just noticed his name wasn’t on your door anymore and when I asked Bucky about it he said ‘certain circumstances have resulted in a change in living situations.’” 

Steve rushes down the hall to his room where, sure enough, only his name is on the door. He opens it to see only his belongings present and the right half of the room completely empty. “Holy shit,” he says quietly to himself and then a louder, happier, “holy shit!” He grins and walks into the room, doing a slow spin. “I could get used to this.” He has no idea how the hell it happened but he’s going to choose to not look a gift horse in the mouth. He’s had a pretty phenomenal 24 hours and he’d like to prolong it for as long as possible. 

Now that he’s back in the building, though, he’s aware that Bucky is probably down the hall. Bucky, who he hasn’t talked to since he left the party. Bucky, who he was kissing and grinding against not even 24 hours before. That answered most of the questions Steve had about how they felt about each other. He figures the final question can be answered easily enough and he’s tired of being nervous and uncertain about it. He gets An Idea. He looks down the hall and can see that Bucky’s door is open so he changes and walks down to Bucky’s room and hopes this isn’t the dumbest thing he’s ever done. 

Bucky’s at his desk, his back to the door when Steve knocks and says, “hey, can we talk about last night?” 

Bucky shoots up out of his chair. “Jesus, Steve, I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day, what –?” He stops when he realizes Steve is only wearing a towel. 

“How did you manage to lock yourself out of your room again? Rumlow’s not even in this building, anymore. Come in while I find my keys,” Bucky says as he turns around and starts rummaging through his backpack. 

Steve shuts the door, takes a deep breath, and says, “I like you. A lot.” Bucky turns to face him, a small smile playing at his lips. “And you like me…,” Steve starts. 

“A lot,” Bucky clarifies. 

“Like, date, a lot?” Steve asks. The one unanswered question. 

“Like, date a lot,” Bucky assures him, still smiling. 

“Alright, I’m glad we’re on the same page.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Bucky says slowly. His eyes aren’t really focused on Steve’s face, Steve notices. “I’ve got the keys,” Bucky says weakly, holding up the object in question. 

“I didn’t lock myself out of my room,” Steve says. He lets go of his towel and it falls to the floor. 

Bucky drops the keys. 

****

 **Epilogue**

Peggy throws a small get-together in her room before Thanksgiving break. Clint crashes it but leaves almost just as quickly because he "doesn't want to seventh wheel on their weird triple date night." To be fair, while the get together was meant to be a “There Won’t Be A Lawsuit From Brock Rumlow We Have To Deal With” party, it did become a "triple date night" pretty quickly. It was also meant to be a “We Don’t Have To Deal With Brock Rumlow Anymore” party but Peggy would never admit that, because she's subtle.

**Author's Note:**

> I was never an RA, I was only friends with them, so I don't really know what would happen if someone lit their dorm room on fire but I can't imagine it ending well. I kept adding more characters because it was fun and it made it feel like I was fleshing out the school so hopefully it comes across as that and not a jumbled mess.


End file.
